Louise
by Ellenarnia
Summary: Sister Julienne's reactions in Series 4 Episode 2


_This is my first Call the Midwife fic so please be gentle _

Louise

Louise. Nobody had called her that in years. It had been so long since anybody had called her anything except Sister Julienne. So long since her past had come to find her in the present. So long since she had had to worry about being troubled by what she had left behind. Sister Julienne had been the name that she had hid behind. The minute that anybody had called her anything else than her religious name her defences had come crashing down around her ears. The defences that she thought she could hide behind forever, which she thought had been so strong. That thought probably occurred to her because they had never had anybody to test them. Nobody to see how strong she really was.

She never thought that she would ever see him again. The last time they had met, felt to her as a regret. She had regretted never seeing him again, but the faith that she had felt was strong enough to see her through that. Or so she thought. She thought that her faith was the only strong thing that she had in her life. Maybe to others, her joining of a religious order was an escape. She had thought it so at times but then remembered that the faith she had was real. That was the true part. Her faith was always there. He said he had seen the faith grow in her like a beautiful flower whose name he'd never know. If it truly was a flower, she felt even she hadn't and still didn't know the name of it. She had felt a love for her faith and had found a different happiness. A happiness away from, material possessions and perhaps most importantly love, but it was a happiness that had fulfilled her. Not as what she thought, she would have had if she was free from a religious life. Yet it was still enough for her. It had to be enough for her, because she knew that there was no going back.

What she could have had away from religion was a man who loved her as much as she loved him. It would never have compared with the life she had now. 30 years of religion and solitude, compared to 30 years of love and happiness. There was no contest. She could still have had religion in her life, if she had followed her heart instead of her head. She could have had people who loved and cared for in her life. She had that in her religion, she had the love of her other Sister's and her friends but not the love of a man. A man that she could have had but turned her back on.

When she had that call from the motherhouse, every regret she had came back to haunt her. Everything she thought that she could handle by pushing away and trying to forget was dragged back into the present. She knew that she would have to go and meet him, for the sake of everyone at Nonnatus House. The place was falling into disrepair and if Charles made the donation she could save the place. She could save the home of everyone that lived there. She knew, as she watched London pass her by on the bus, it would be difficult seeing him after all these years.

She didn't think that he would remember being stood up outside the pictures. She hadn't meant to hurt him. It was really to save him, or herself. She couldn't decide that. She didn't want to break his heart any more than she had too but it seemed that her efforts had been in vain. It had hurt him and it had hurt her. Broken them both with so little time to fix them. The fact that she had written trying to explain to him, was something that made the guilt a little more bearable, took the edge away from it. She had denied keeping the souvenir but, when she looked upon it later that night she felt glad she had kept it close to her, even though she had tried to keep its existence hidden for so long.

He said he had respected her decision about her faith but knew that if he could turn back the clock and stop her, he would. She hadn't always wanted this faith or this way of life. Like she had said she was called to do something and she did it. Even if she had tried not to think of the consequences to others at the time. Then him speaking her name, in that way. In the tender way that he used to. The way that he cared for her was still evident in his voice, and she couldn't have stayed to hear any more of it. If she did, she knew it would have broken her.

When his son had called her up and told her that Charles had wanted to take her to the pictures, it had surprised her. He wanted to see her again. For the third time and the last time, although she hadn't known it. She had thought of denying the offer. She knew that she shouldn't but being Louise again, for at least one last time was just too hard a temptation to keep away from. It was certainly worth it. Everything about that afternoon had made it one of the happiest of her life. It had made her feel young again, made her feel alive again. When he had told her that he was planning all sorts of things, she had known what he meant and felt a pang of loss for the life she could have had, but she tried to forget as she watched the film. As she had held his hand she couldn't turn to look at him because she knew what she would see in his eyes. Something she had forsaken.

The letter had said that he had passed away peacefully. That was at least some relief. The fact that her final visits to him had been of some comfort to him, had made them a comfort to her. The letter had said that his funeral would be on Wednesday, she had watched the service from the back door of the church and waited at the gate as his family buried him. When they had left she gone up to the grave. The headstone read, Charles Newgarden, husband, father, a generous and kind man. It was short and sweet and the words a generous and kind man, summed him up. As she walked away she knew that it would not be last time that she would think of him, because with him she wasn't, the kind and motherly Sister who watched over Nonnatus House but the care-free and happy girl who was loved by a man who she had cared for and loved for a very long time. She could be Louise.

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